


The One

by PhantomWarrior99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWarrior99/pseuds/PhantomWarrior99
Summary: You’ve never known a man gentler than Gabriel, and the Apocalypse has an odd way of bringing people together.





	The One

  **Prompt:** The One by Kodaline

\----------------

**Cause I knew**

**The first day that I met you**

**I was never gonna let you**

**Let you slip away**

\----------------

Sunlight streaming through the curtains, the warmth radiating from the skin pressed close against your back, an arm tucked carefully around your waist, holding you secure.

You stir gently, his warm breath steadily cascading over your shoulders, nerves standing on end at his touch. The sleepy daze begins to fade when his lips press against your neck, trailing gentle kisses along rosy flesh.

"Morning, sugar."

You stretch back against him, back pressed against chest, hand flexing to entwine your fingers with his, "Morning, Gabe."

"Sleep well?" It's a whisper ghosting across exposed skin, goosebumps surfacing in its wake.

"Yeah," a breathless murmur before he leans over and presses his lips to yours.

His hand slips loose of yours and moves to cradle your cheek with a tenderness you've never known.

He's an archangel, a weapon of unimaginable power, and yet, you've never known a man more gentle than the one beside you now. He holds you as if you're crystal on the verge of fragmenting, a touch so light you wonder if he's afraid of shattering  _you_.

You reach up, fingers tangling with soft, golden curls, a touch as gentle as the affectionate caress of his lips against yours. Your heart swells as you press closer to him, every curve matching, every touch sparking.

At last, he pulls away, hazel bearing into y/e/c, searching, admiring, adoring every inch of your features.

"I love you," he's smiling, suppressing the almost timid nature of his confession.

The smile that spreads across your lips puts his mind at ease, "I love you, too, Gabriel."

"Of course, who wouldn't?" An attempt at humor, a means of warding off the awkwardness as he cracks his signature grin.

You swat his arm even as he looms above you, "You killed you the moment."

"It was dying anyway," his grin fades to a smirk.

You give him a playful shove upwards, he grabs you, ever so gently, by the wrist and tugs you with him to a seated position. You're pressed against his chest, resting on your knees as you lose yourself in honeyed hues, admiring the golden rays dancing in his eyes.

He speaks first, pushing a stray strand of hair from your eyes, "Dear Father, you're beautiful."

You're cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson, fingers fumbling blindly across his collarbone, "Gabriel--"

"I know, I know, no flattery." He peers down at you, dragging your embarrassed gaze back to his eyes, "but, can you really blame me?"

"Don't know, can I?"

Another kiss, harsher than a the first, but gentle, always so gentle. His hands drift across your frame, fingertips tracing every intricate curve, every inch of your spine, memorizing every scar along your shoulder blades.

He wants nothing more than to snap them away, but you refuse, always refusing to remove them. There are memories tied to each and every one, you tell him, each marred ridge reminds you of the battles and sacrifices. You're a hunter, scars are part of the job description.

You're never alone, he tells you, pleads with you to call if you're ever in trouble. He never wants you to be in pain, never wants to watch you bleed, or cry or break again. So, he holds you together, every tear washed away when he cradles your trembling frame close and wards off the darkness at your door.

He's your protector, your golden knight, your safe-haven, your whole world--the love of your life. He made you a promise all those years ago, the day you met him, he promised he'd always be there. No matter how far, how deep, how high you go, he'll be there in a heartbeat.

It's a promise he'll never break, no matter the cost.

\----------------

"It was a standard salt and burn, nothing to worry about." You waved Dean off before turning back to carefully dismantling your shotgun.

"Are you absolutely positive that was the only thing going on in this town?"

"Yes,  _dad_ , I did my homework." You retorted, beginning to clean the weapon.

"Very funny," Dean retorted, settling onto the couch across from you.

"I'm with Dean, this doesn't feel over, Y/N." Sam added from his place at the table, glancing up from his laptop.

You heaved a sigh, setting the weapon off to the side and redirecting your full attention to the Winchesters, "I did some digging, I salt and burned the bones. It seemed like the end of it, but I was planning on staying in town for another day or so just to be sure."

"We'll stay too," Dean picked up his beer, swirling its contents around before taking a sip, "you know, in case you need help."

"That's not necessary--"

"Y/N, we're staying."

"All right, suit yourself, but if you get bored, don't come crying to me." You turned your gaze back to the shotgun and returned to cleaning the barrel.

"You knuckleheads are on to something."

You were on your feet, pistol level with the sudden appearance standing in the middle of the room.

Sam and Dean already had their guns cocked and ready, "What the hell?!"

"Hello, boys." Gabriel greeted, thoroughly unimpressed with the weaponry directed at him, "miss me?"

"Gabriel," Dean's weapon drops to his side and he sighs, "what the hell do you want?"

"First of all, rude, second of all," his eyes fell to you, "who's this?"

"None of your damn business, that's who she is," Dean stepped in front of you, lowering your weapon and glaring at Gabriel.

"Seems like my business," a blink and he was beside you, eyes drifting shamelessly over your form.

"Keep looking at me that way and I'll put two between your eyes," you snapped, cocking the pistol for good measure.

"Won't do any good," Sam supplied, setting his pistol down and retaking his seat, "He's an angel--an archangel, to be precise."

"Surprise!" A poor attempt at jazz hands from Gabriel.

"You're kidding," you glanced between the brothers, waiting for the punch line that would never come.

"Nope," Dean sighed, shuffling back to the couch and collapsed onto the worn cushions. "He's one hundred percent douche."

Gabriel shot Dean an unamused scowl, his features returning to a smile when he looked back at you, "They call me Gabriel."

"Y/N," you supplied reluctantly, ignoring the outstretched appendage and turned back to your shotgun.

"What do you want, Gabriel?" Dean asked, tearing the archangel's attention away from you. 

Gabriel's hand dropped to his side, gaze redirected towards Dean, "You and Samsquatch were right, this job isn't over."

"Well, don't leave us in suspense," Dean's arms folded across his chest.

"There's a nephilum in town."

"A nephilum?"

Gabriel nodded, "The kid's dad was dealt with in Heaven a long time ago, they just couldn't catch the little runt."

"What's a nephilum?" You questioned, catching the attention of the whiskey-hued archangel.

"The offspring of an angel and a human--they're strictly forbidden. Usually they're smited right off the bat, but this one? He was smart and decided to hide out until he was strong enough to fight back."

"So, we're dealing with a half-angel who has one hell of a grudge?"

"Bingo, and I'm here to make sure tweedlee and tweedledum here, don't get themselves killed." Gabriel jabbed a thumb towards the Winchesters.

"What does this have to do with us?" Sam frowned.

"The nephilum is looking for you--something about you two knowing how to summon and kill an angel."

Dean scoffed, "It's harder than it sounds."

Gabriel shrugged, "Either way, I'm your protection."

"Didn't know you cared so much," Dean retorted, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I don't, but with the Apocalypse on the horizon, you're going to need all the help you can get."

"Apocalypse?"

You had abandoned the half-assembled weapon long ago, your eyes darting between the three men, "When the hell did the Apocalypse start?!"

"Uh, give or take...four months?" Gabriel shrugged weakly.

"Four months? The fucking Apocalypse started  _four_  months ago, and the hunting community knows  _nothing_  about this?" You stood, disapproving glower pinning the boys in place.

"We're handling it, Y/N." Sam interjected, "we can stop Lucifer and put him back in his cage."

"Lucifer is out of his cage? Better question: Lucifer  _has_  a cage?" Disbelief replaced disapproval.

"Yeah, and you have Sammy, here, to thank for that." Gabriel nodded towards Sam.

"Hey! He didn't mean to open the cage--he was high." Dean jumped to his little brother's defense.

"On  _what_?" You were confused, thoroughly regretting broaching this questionable topic.

"Demon blood," Dean returned quietly, arms folding across his chest.

"Right," you nodded slowly, "well, what do we have to do to stop the Apocalypse?"

Dean cast a concerned glance towards Sam, "We're working on it--"

"--yes, yes, and in the mean time, you have a nephilum to deal with." Gabriel interrupted, boredom evident.

 "Okay, then how do we deal with the nephilum?"

"Well, your best bet is to kill it."

"Why not have it join our team?" Sam questioned.

"Because, that thing has one goal: kill the angels." Gabriel retorted with a pointed glare.

"Right and how is that our problem?" Dean quieried, disinterest etched into his features.

"No angels means no backup, Dean-O. You wanna beat Lucifer? You're gonna need the God Squad." Gabriel slung an arm around your shoulder, gaze never leaving Dean.

Your eyes shifted from Gabriel's arm to his face, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all, sugar." A mischievous glint glittering within golden orbs.

You rolled your arms, plucking his hand from your arm and dropping it with disgust, "Hands to yourself."

"Suit yourself," Gabriel held his hands up in surrender before turning back to the boys, "So, what's the plan?"

\----------------

The details were fuzzy, they'd always been fuzzy--an unfortunate side effect of the concussion you suffered.

At some point, Gabriel had helped the three of you locate the wayward half-celestial. Sam, in all his stubbornness, had pushed for an alliance--to convince the nephilum to join their fight against Lucifer.

Unfortunately, Gabriel had been right. The nephilum, later known as Aeron Levi, had been unwilling to forsake his vengeance, and had opted, instead, to try and smite the Winchesters. Gabriel had interfered, driven him back until Aeron identified Gabriel's weakness: you. He'd been close to you the entire hunt, keeping you safe in every manner he could manage. Flirting and teasing, he'd won you over with nothing less than a smile and some charm.

He left you alone for a mere moment, stepping in to protect the boys from the raging nephilum. It was then he knew it was a mistake, he never should have left your side. Now, here you were, borderline unconscious, splayed on the cold pavement, blood dribbling from the base of your skull where bone met concrete mere seconds before. It was the catalyst Gabriel needed, he managed to catch hold of Aeron's arm and dragged him down, palm of his hand burning the Grace behind your would-be executioner's eyes.

You remember the scream, one so shrill, it would haunt your worst nightmares for years to come. Your ears were ringing, drowning out the hovering angel's concerned ramblings.

His fingers came to rest on your forehead, two trembling fingers pressed gingerly against sweaty, bloodied flesh. The pain, once a roaring typhoon behind your eyes, ebbed away, leaving only blissful relief behind. You blinked once. Twice. A third time before your vision cleared and all was set right.

The Winchesters were at your side, Dean checking your skull for fractures, Sam resting a hand cautiously on your shoulder. Y/e/c met whiskey brown, confusion and clarity all at once. Gabriel offered you a gentle smile, resting a hand on your thigh, "You all right?"

You nodded slowly, daze fading, reality reclaiming control, "Yeah, I'm--I'm good."

"Good," his smile fades to a smirk, pushing himself to stand and holding a hand out for you to take.

Sam and Dean seemed satisfied that you were in one piece and stood, allowing you room to accept the archangel's outstretched appendage. Without warning, you were gathered into his arms, warmth cascading over your frame as you rested your forehead against his shoulder.

"We'll, uh--we'll wait in the car, Y/N."

You nodded slightly as the Winchesters gathered their gear and disappeared through the door. Gabriel's arms were secured around your waist, the moment seemingly frozen in time as he held you close.

You were the first to break the silence, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze, "Thanks for the save."

He smiled, arrogance tugging at the otherwise warm tilt of the lips, "my pleasure, sugar."

There was a hint of red flashing across your cheeks, your eyes darted around the room to regain composure before they met golden embers, "Well, the boys are waiting--"

"--let them wait," his hands secured themselves around your waist before he pressed his lips to yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, fingers tentatively drifting up his shoulders to tangle with the curls at the base of his skull. You could feel the upward tug of his lips as he smirked, his once tender kiss turning firmer as he held you close. He's gentle with your frame, fingers dancing over your back, lips caressing yours with a passion you hadn't thought possible.

At last, he pulled away. Your skin was flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly to compensate for your racing heart rate. Gabriel didn't bother to hide his prideful smirk as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

In the distance, Dean blared the Impala's horn, demanding your immediate departure, but Gabriel's smug and unwilling to admit defeat.

"I gotta go."

"Stay," he whispered, gold searching y/e/c.

"The job isn't going to do itself, Gabe. Maybe another time," you offered a weak smile, one vaguely masking the reluctance in your posture.

"Call if you need anything," he returned, pressing one final kiss to your lips.

"Right," you cleared your throat and stepped away after a long moment, slowly backing towards the door. You gave one last smile before you turned, pausing beside the door frame, "I do have one question." You faced him, curiosity evident in your features as you studied his amused expression.

"Yeah?"

"Why did you save me?"

A blink and he was beside you once more, cradling your cheeks between his hands, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes bled adoration, tenderly admiring your features, savoring the warmth of your smaller frame pressed against his. It's a moment he'll remember for the rest of his life, a memory he'll cling to in his darkest hours, the light of his otherwise lonely life.

"Because, from the moment I met you, I knew I could never let you slip away, Y/N."

\----------------------

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks!  
> This fic was created via a challenge on Tumblr. I hope y'all enjoyed it! If you'd like a fic written, I am taking requests!  
> As always, leave a kudo/comment and let me know your thoughts!  
> ~ Phantom


End file.
